


Promise Me

by raincloudsinthesky



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: 2x08 coda, Angst, Connor Deserves Happiness, Connor Has Anxiety, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, hurt Connor, overprotective connor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:46:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23125723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raincloudsinthesky/pseuds/raincloudsinthesky
Summary: Oliver’s never seen Conner this angry.He’s practically simmering with rage the entire way home; his jaw clenching and unclenching, his hands gripped tightly around the steering wheel. The silence is heavy and awkward. At least it is for Oliver.Or, Connor's reaction to Oliver disappearing in 2x08
Relationships: Oliver Hampton/Connor Walsh
Comments: 2
Kudos: 146





	Promise Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by how much Connor was freaking out while Oliver was gone.

As soon as Philip Jessup leaves the house Connor surges out of his chair and practically throws himself into Oliver’s arms.

Asher lets out a low whistle.

“Looks like Walshy’s feelin’ thirsty.”

The entire group shoots him a collective dirty look except for Connor, who still has his face buried in the junction between Oliver’s neck and shoulder.

“Seriously Asher, grow up,” Laurel scoffs. “It’s been a long night for all of us.”

Then, just as suddenly as he threw himself at Oliver, Connor is gone, already across the room by Wes, his arms crossed in a defensive position.

“Where’s your laptop?”

***

Oliver’s never seen Connor this angry.

He’s practically simmering with rage the entire way home; his jaw clenching and unclenching, his hands gripped tightly around the steering wheel. The silence is heavy and awkward. At least it is for Oliver.

He doesn’t say anything in the car ride home, or when they pull into the parking lot, or when they enter the apartment.

“Connor--”

“Not now Oliver.”

Connor heads straight to the bathroom and slams the door behind him. There’s silence, then the sound of the shower running. Just in case, Oliver gently turns the handle of the bathroom door. Locked. So Oliver changes out of his suit and he sits, and he waits.

***

By the time Oliver has cleaned up the spilled milk, cooks dinner, and is halfway through an episode of Suits when Connor comes out of the bathroom, nearly a full hour and a half since he entered, in grey sweatpants and one of Oliver’s hoodies. It’s one of his bigger hoodies, so while it’s a little loose on Oliver it practically drowns Conner. His boyfriend has the hood drawn up and has tucked his hands inside the sleeves and overall looks like an extremely cuddly yet depressed marshmallow.

Connor’s doing this weird shuffle, taking small steps and barely putting one foot in front of the other as if he’s not quite sure if he’s welcome. Eventually, he makes it to the opposite end of the couch from Oliver where he curls up with a pillow on his lap.

“I made chicken and rice if you want it,” Oliver offers, even though he already knows Connor’s response.

“I don’t feel like eating.” His voice is hoarse and broken as if he had spent the last 90 minutes crying. His eyes are red and swollen and he’s letting out these heartbreaking little sniffles.

Oliver feels a pang of guilt flare in his stomach. How long was Connor in that bathroom freaking out instead of actually showering?

Connor still hasn’t moved and won’t look at him and it’s breaking Oliver a little more every time he hears Connor’s breath catch on a poorly concealed sob.

“Can you, can you at least come closer? You’re making me nervous.”

Connor’s breathing stills for a moment before he nods in a single jerky motion. He slowly shifts until there are only a couple inches in between them. It’s not what Oliver was talking about, but it’s closer.

With a little tug, Oliver manages to coax the law student to lay his head on his laps. Oliver runs his hands through Connor’s damp hair, gearing himself up for what’s next.

“I get you’re mad, but I need to know if you’re at least okay. You were in the bathroom a long time and if you were freaking out, or had a panic attack, or something, I need to know you’re going to be okay.”

“I’m not okay, Oliver,” Connor says quietly. He draws in a deep, shuddering breath. “You are the one good thing in my life and-- and I thought I lost you today Ollie. I came home a--and there was milk all over the floor, you weren’t there, and I panicked.” A fractured whimper escapes his lips and Oliver feels Connor’s tears soak into his sweatpants. “I couldn’t breathe, or-- or think, I was a mess.”

Connor’s body is heaving in full-blown sobs now and that’s when it hits Oliver, he’s never seen him cry. Not when he showed up at Oliver’s doorstep at the crack of dawn high, or during particularly emotional pillow talks, or even when they watched The Lion King. Sure, there have been glassy eyes or tear-jerking confessions here and there but Connor was always a solid weight for Oliver to lean on. He was a hopeless romantic, yes; emotional, no.

“Alright. Hey, come here,” Oliver says softly. He gently maneuvers his boyfriend upright so he can look Conner in the eye and gently cup his face.

“Look at me, I’m here, I’m safe. Nothing happened.”

Connor nods weakly.

“I’m not going anywhere okay? I’m staying right here.” Oliver brushes a stray tear from Connor’s cheek with his thumb.

“I love you, Oli. I love you with all that I am. I wouldn’t be who I am without you. And I just, I can’t lose you.”

Connor brings his hands up to grip Oliver’s wrists tightly.

“You understand that right? You can’t go around playing the hero and hacking whoever you want whenever you want, please. I won’t-- I won’t survive losing you Oli.”

Oliver opens his mouth to say something, anything that’s not a string of gibberish in response to a heartfelt confession but the words get stuck in his throat.

“Please, Oliver, promise me.”

Oliver has never seen Connor this wrecked, this desperate. 

“I-- I promise.”

***

Conner’s face plagues his dreams that night as they sleep with their legs tangled together, Connor’s arms wrapped tightly around his torso.

He can’t even bring himself to truly be angry when Connor takes a hammer and smashes his computer to pieces without warning. Or when he proceeds to act extremely overprotective of him, especially around Annalise and the Keating Five. Every time trouble finds Oliver and Connor steers him away he just sees Connor’s face that night. His tear-stained cheeks, his quivering lip. So Oliver keeps his head down and stays out of trouble. For Connor.

“Promise me.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also planning to write a second series (hopefully) focused on Oliver as well as adding onto this series. anyhow, this is the first thing I've written in months so I hope it was alright but hopefully I get over this writers block.


End file.
